


And Turn the Whole World Gold

by Ancient_K



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Canon, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sickfic, not edited because I'm lazy, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:29:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21888943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancient_K/pseuds/Ancient_K
Summary: When he got back to the bedroom Bucky was hunched over, spine pressing against the wall and face buried in his knees. Steve wordlessly set the glass down on the nightstand and crawled across the little bed. Almost immediately Bucky folded into him. Buck’s sweaty face leaned into Steve's shirt, their hands loosely and clumsily entwined. Steves planted a gentle kiss on the place were Bucky's hair met his forehead.Bucky gets migraines, Steve takes care of him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired from this line from my other fic, Where Does a Ghost Go to Hide? "Back when it was the 40’s Bucky's eye twitching meant that a migraine was coming on, now it means that blood is about to start gushing out of his nose."

“Hey Steve.” Steve glanced up from were he was hopelessly attempting to make a pot of soup to see Bucky leaning heavily on the doorframe. His face was pale and under eyes dark from too many late nights and early mornings. His features were more pinched than usual, eyes squinting at him. The shirt that he had worn to work that day was damp with sweat and little tears around the neckline had started to form. 

“Making dinner?” Bucky walked into their little kitchen and let his chin come to rest on Steve’s shoulder. It nestled in the space between Steve’s collarbone and shoulder blade like it had a thousand times before.

“Trying to,” Steve huffed as he leaned into the other man's touch. He smelled like salt, and sweat, and he was everything that Steve knew. They lingered there for a few seconds. Steve absentmindedly stirring a pot of flavorless vegetable soup, Buck with his eyes closed and face buried in the crook of Steves neck. 

“You alright?” Steve reached back to run a hand through Bucky’s sweaty hair.

“Never better.” 

Bucky didn’t eat dinner. Instead, he twirled his spoon around and insisted that he was fine.

“I could reheat it for you” Steve offered.

“I’m fine.” 

“Or I could make you a sandwich if you want something else.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“Did you eat lunch?” Steve was rambling now, words tumbling out of his mouth in his concern for the most miniscule of details.

“Steve.”

“But you gotta eat something Buck.”

“Steve!” This finally stopped Steves talking but if anything he just looked even more concerned. His face wilted and his mouth remained open, moving like a fish gasping for breathe. Bucky was hunched over the dining table with his head in his hands. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth twisted into a grimace. “I’m just not feeling so hot right now.” 

Steve got up and practically ran to his side.

“Hey look at me Buck.” Steve gently guided Bucky's face up so that their eyes could meet. “Can you open your eyes for me?” He did, if only slightly. Both of his pupils were blown wide and the whites of his eyes streaked through with blood. His left eye was twitching. 

Ever since they were kids it was always Steve getting sick. He was the frail little boy who was laid up in bed all winter and a cold could knock him out for a week. The one sickness that plagued Bucky since childhood was migraines. Steve knew the signs well. 

“Alright Buck you don’t have to eat anything.” He stood up and let Bucky bury his face into Steve’s stomach. “But will you drink some water? Please, for me?” 

“Don’t wanna” Bucky whined.

“I know you don’t.” Steve ran his bony fingers through Bucky's greasy hair. He finally let one hand rest at the base of Buck’s sweaty neck while the other tucked strand after strand of dark hair behind his ears and out of his eyes. “Can you drink something for me? It’ll make you feel better.” 

Bucky didn’t respond but he also let Steve guide him over to their bed. It gave a loud creak when he sat down on it.

While carrying a full glass of water from the kitchen to the bedroom Steve flipped off the lights. He knew from experience that even the dimmest of light could seem blinding when you were sick. He also knew that the incessant buzzing and flickering of the poor electricity was enough to cause a headache on its own. 

When he got back to the bedroom Bucky was hunched over, spine pressing against the wall and face buried in his knees. Steve wordlessly set the glass down on the nightstand and crawled across the little bed. Almost immediately Bucky folded into him. Buck’s sweaty face leaned into Steve's shirt, their hands loosely and clumsily entwined. Steves planted a gentle kiss on the place were Bucky's hair met his forehead. 

“Brought you some water” Steve offered. He reached out, doing his best not to disturb Bucky who seemed half asleep in his lap. With some convincing Bucky managed to drink about half the glass before shaking his head and returning to his position. All curled up he reminded Steve vaguely of the stray cat that would wander the alley between the diner with the red awning and the shop run by an old lady. 

“You want an aspirin Buck? Or some Tea?” 

“No” Bucky whispered, eyes still closed. “I like you here.”

“Alright Buck, I won’t leave. I promise.”

So Steve didn’t leave. He sat with his head against the peeling paint of their apartment walls and let Buck drift off into a hopefully restful sleep on his lap. Outside a dog howled and a group of children played with a rubber ball. If steve craned his neck out enough he could just barely see them through the window. Eventually the kids were called in by their mothers and the dog stopped howling and Brooklyn was almost quiet. 

He wanted to see the world. Take Bucky to the Grand Canyon because he’d always wanted to go. Wanted to see the sun set over the already bronze colored rock and turn the whole world to gold. Steve wanted to go too, if for no other reason then to see Bucky smile. Sure, he could paint the way the sun illuminates one of nature's most beautiful creations but, he wanted to remember Buck’s smile more than anything else in the world. 

They both wanted to see everything there is to see, do everything there is to do but at the same time Steve knew he could never truly leave Brooklyn. This wretched, beautiful place were his Mom had died and were he had been nearly beaten to death by some guys who thought that they owned the world. It was the place were him and Buck had danced in their socks to Frank sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald, were Steve had drawn snow capped brick buildings and the way that the sun danced off windows, were Buck had leaned in close one hot and clear night and kissed Steves lips. It was the place were Steve had kissed him back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie I'm not super proud of this chapter or this fic in general but it's always good to practice writing. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy.

Too often sleepless nights prelude bad days and even worse mornings, but every now and then a rare moment of bliss cuts through the usual hectic routine. 

Steve sighed as he readjusted. Bucky was lounging against his chest, dark hair messy and nearly reaching his shoulders. The couch on which they were laying was facing the windows that had come to be cluttered with little potted plants. The sky was dark but the streetlamps provided an eerie glow that just barely reached the second floor of their brownstone. 

Spending literal decades with a person made silence comfortable as the two watched the sky go from navy blue to the very beginnings of a pale pink. 

In some ways it was the exact same as their life before the war. Their hands still found each other under the mess of blankets, comforting as ever. A pile of blankets forever cluttered the furniture. The sun still rose over a never sleeping Brooklyn. However, in other ways life had changed nearly beyond Steve’s comprehension. For one thing Steve was no longer the one who was constantly draped in blankets and extra layers, actually Steve hardly ever felt the cold at this point. Buck on the other hand would bundle himself up with oversize sweaters and fluffy blankets yet still manage to shiver. The exposed brick on their walls were considered classy instead of a cheap shortcut. Steve had laughed in Natashas face when she told him that one. The cluster of pill bottles on the counter didn’t belong to him anymore. All these small differences made it feel as if their current life was some sort of twisted parody of the one they used to have.

“I used to always be up before the sun.” Buck spoke as if he had read Steve’s mind. “It was you that slept in.” Thoughts of Bucky maneuvering his way through dark streets early in the morning, tumbling out of his barracks to the sound of a bugle, hand on a rifle as he takes watch invade Steve's mind. He worked so hard just to keep them afloat. “But for all that waking up early I never really looked at the sunrise.” Steve smiled.

“Well you get to watch it now, we got all the time in the world.” Steve planted a gentle kiss on the crown of Buck’s head. Bucky turned to look at him, pale blue eyes turned dark by the lighting. Dried blood crusted on his nose from the near constant nosebleed that had kept them both up most of the night. A side effect of his treatment by Hydra Bruce had explained after it kept happening. Natasha had just tossed them a box of tissues and said that they’d get used to it.

“Sunrise is softer than Sunset,” Steve whispered in the most gentle tone he could muster. “It’s pink and blue instead of orange and red.” Steve's work as an artist took over as he spoke. “Sunrise is lavender and peach and coral. It’s gentle and muted. Less people are around to see it, it doesn’t need to put on a big show. Sunset is like melted copper and bronze. It’s as if the sky just catches on fire for a few moments everyday.” Buck interrupted him with a loud laugh.

“Is it really now? God Steve you’re so cheesy.”

“Hey you’re talking to the sunrise expert over here,”Steve laughed. “With drawings so good that they got them all up in museums.”

“Ya right next to the plaque that says we’re both dead, real credible Stevie,” Bucky retorted.

“Actually I believe that they took that down, making it quite the reliable source.”

“Whatever you say Mr. Captain America Sir.” 

They both laughed until Buck started coughing and Steve started freaking out.

“I”m fine Steve,” Buck managed to wheeze between coughs. Still Steve winced as the congestion he could hear in Bucky’s chest. “Keep telling me about your artsy sunrise.” 

“We’re going to go places Buck, everyplace you have ever wanted to see I’ll take you there.”

“What the twenty-first century isn’t enough for you?”

“No I mean everything you wanted to do before the world went to war, we should do it now. We can watch the sun rise over every country in the world if you’d like, even the ones that didn’t exist before the war.”

“We’ve already seen a bunch of Europe,” Buck whispered.

“We could see it again and you know, not have to worry about Nazis.”

“Well that’s all a man can ask for.”

“You ever miss our old apartment?” Buck looks back at him, seeming surprised by the question.

“No. I don’t.” Bucky’s voice is firm and unquestioning. “I have all I need right here, the apartment doesn’t matter.”

“I do.” Steve is just as unyielding in his answer as Bucky. “I miss our bedroom, when we would push the little twin beds together. Don’t miss the drafts though, the place got so cold in the winter.”

“That's all you miss? Just the beds? God Stevie if I knew that I’d get us a new bed.” Steve smiled at Buck’s tone. He sounds so much like his mother sometimes, especially when he pulls out her sense of dry humor.

“I miss the view, the way the frost on the window would change the way the light reflected. I miss the cityline, it’s changed so much since then.”

Buck didn’t respond, just continued to gaze out the window. “The world has changed. We’re not the ones just watching it spin on anymore, we’re changing it.” A sense of melancholy colored his voice. It wasn’t some proud proclamation, just a fact.

The sun rose and all the beautiful colors that make up a sunrise melted into the light blue of the midmorning sky. The streets quickly crowded with people in the middle of their morning commute, hustling to catch their train or clock in to work on time. Tourists stopped in their tracks to take pictures of the streets. It was so different from the time in which Steve grew up. But the sun still rose, still reflected magnificently off the buildings, and as long as it did that he would be there to watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was going to try and write a sad sickfic but I really wanted something a little happier right now. Maybe I'll still write it at some point though. 
> 
> Stay safe, stay healthy, stay inside. 
> 
> As always please feel free to leave any grammar mistakes/typos that you see in the comments.

**Author's Note:**

> Finals are over, and I was sick while take them but at least it's done now. Rest in peace to my chemistry grade though. I'll try to get the other chapter posted soon but no promises. If you guys spot any grammar mistakes/typos please feel free to let me know in the comments. Anyway this is a bit different from what I usually write so I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
